Sunday, November 30, 2014

Monologue Mania Day #291 by Janet S. Tiger An Annoying Wine Nov. 30, 2014

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Monologue Mania Day #291 by Janet S. Tiger An Annoying Wine  Nov. 30, 2014 

                                                          An Annoying Wine
                                 A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved
                                                        tigerteam1@gmail.com 


              (The woman who enters is elegant, very well dressed, carrying a glass of wine and a bottle.  She smiles as she lifts the bottle to pour.)

Oh, Gregory, what a lovely evening!  I can't believe it's taken this long for us to get together like this.  You have such a beautiful home, I truly appreciate your allowing me to visit, make you dinner and even bring the wine....

            (She adds to her own glass, sets down the bottle.)

Let me propose a toast to Eleanor, the reason we are both here. A dear friend and a dead wife.

(Laughs)   No need to pretend, Gregory, we both know how you felt about her.  You were very clear, she was less than scintillating, worried too much about the children, and she had a voice that could make you cringe, as you put it, a most annoying whine.  So I lift a glass to her.....

            (She drains the glass, smiles, adds to it again.)

It is a fine vintage, isn't it?  And it goes so well with the spicy side of the barracuda tonight, don't you think?  I just love cajun.  So very New Orleans, expensive, yet with a touch of decadence.

            (She leans over, solicitous)

Having a little trouble getting up?  Must be the wine.  Well, actually, it was the wine.  Or rather what was in the wine.  You should know....or perhaps I should say Yew should know......there's a yew tree in your yard......what a shame some of those poisonous leaves must have been on my sleeves as I prepared our drinks.......
   
         (She drinks again, smiles)

And how unfortunate the needles only fell into your drink...... 

        (Leans over)

I'm sorry, it's getting so difficult to understand you, my dear.  I believe your cell phone is somewhere else, probably in the den.  Because I went to the bathroom while you were becoming so ill,  by the time I retrieve it, and call for help, I'm afraid you'll be gone, what a pity.  What a terrible pity.

Did you give Eleanor this much chance?  Was she still alive.... or did you just fling her dead body into the Atlantic,  out of that boat you had twenty-three years ago that she always hated?  Into the cold water, to be eaten by the denizens of the deep.  All these unanswered questions!  I had hoped you would clear them up...... even though your body is becoming paralyzed, your brain is still viable, you can just nod the answers if you don't want to speak.

          (She removes an envelope from a pocket.)

And I will make sure this will be found in a safe place.  On paper from years ago, paper I saved, and printed up your confession on, from that old printer you gave me after you purchased all new things with the insurance money after Eleanor was gone.  

           (She waves the envelope)

 Your confession, after all these years, written long ago, found now that you, too, are gone.

         (She is getting angry)

Did you truly think you could get away with it?  That no one cared at all?  Eleanor was more than a friend, she was a true friend.  Had she left here that day, she would have told me.  She might have left you....and she might have even left her children.  But she never would have left her purse behind.  A woman just doesn't do that.  No, I knew it then, and I know it now - you killed her, and they could never prove it.   

But at least now, your children will have some closure.  They deserve that, as they deserve to know exactly who their father was......

          (Listens, laughs)

If the poison didn't work?  (Laughs)  I have a revolver in my purse because you became violent when I confronted you about Eleanor.  But I don't think that will be necessary, you seem to be having such difficulty even standing up.....

          (Listens, shakes her head)

 Get away with this?  (Bitter)  Do you think I care if I get away with this?  If someone figures out what I did tonight, if being the main word ........it really doesn't matter....you see, I start chemotherapy on Monday.  If the chemotherapy doesn't kill me, and the 13 lesions on my brain and spine and kidneys don't kill me, then I'll worry about IF they catch me.  You see, Gregory, that's why I waited, for just the right time.  Why I stayed in touch, but not too close.  Waiting for just this minute......and now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go powder my nose......

          (She turns to leave, stops, looks back, leans in)

 In your last moments, Gregory, can you hear her again?  I hope so, because I am so glad you are being given true justice.....through an annoying wine.........

          (She laughs as she exits.  The end......of this vintage) 
   

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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315 
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
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